


A Tail of Impawsible Purrportions

by cresselia8themoon



Category: Milo Murphy's Law
Genre: #also cats, #you can never go wrong with cats, Aristocats Au, Cause Disney movie AUs are the best, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-03-02 08:47:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13314651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cresselia8themoon/pseuds/cresselia8themoon
Summary: Aristocats AU.Cavendish is an upper class cat who kinda sorta became the guardian of three kittens, Milo, Melissa, and Zack. While the Murphy family is content with their life, the butler hatches a plot in a misguided attempt to make the mansion a safe place to work. With the help of the infuriating but charming alley cat Dakota, Cavendish and the kittens must find their way home.





	1. No Place Like Home

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I’ve been bombarding y'all with posts over an Aristocats AU on both this blog and Discord. Well, here’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for!

Humans and cats had vastly different ideas of ownership. Humans tended to talk for lengthy periods of time, blow through sheets of paper as they complained of hand cramps from placing one too many signatures, and the item was theirs.

In Cavendish’s opinion, humans would save time and trouble if they’d learn to rub a scent mark on it.

And because every major fixture in the mansion contained his scent, he was the undisputed master. Not that anyone could dispute it, since humans didn’t understand cats and other animals.

They were a rather ignorant species.

But why ponder the things he didn’t understand when he could nap peacefully on a soft rug instead?

Cavendish stretched out luxuriously from his spot near the fireplace, the Murphy family sprawled out on cushions and blankets around him. He cast a warning glance to Martin as he stood up to stoke the flames. Thankfully, Martin got the message and went the long way around. 

He didn’t like having Martin close to him. The man was clumsier than a pig on oiled wheels. Besides, he’d learned his lesson the first time Martin stepped on his tail. The base of the appendage ached at the memory. 

“Mom, there’s an Orton Mahlson double feature at the movie theater this Saturday,” Sara said, her hands clutched to her chest in excitement. “May I go?” 

Cavendish began to groom himself to occupy himself as Sara prattled on about Orton Mahlson’s charming good looks. It was always Orton this and Orton that with her silly mind. 

“If the weather cooperates, you can go,” Brigitte smiled. She was Cavendish’s favorite human in the mansion. She didn’t step on his tail and didn’t talk obsessively over a single subject. Most importantly, she didn’t attempt to shoo him out of a room while he lounged around. 

Unlike the butler. 

He wasn’t even good at his job. 

And she respected that he didn’t like to be touched unless he invited them. The rest of the humans in the mansion needed to take notes. 

Cavendish glanced at the enormous window on the other side of the room, with a sill large enough to seat two people comfortably. Under normal circumstances, he would’ve enjoyed basking in the sunlight by that window. But a snowstorm raged outside, and his favorite spot was colder than ice. 

But as long as there was a source of heat in the mansion, he didn’t mind giving it up for a while. 

Three harsh knocks sounded from the door, jolting Cavendish from his thoughts. Brigitte stood up, grabbing her shawl from the coat rack and wrapping it around her neck for protection against the bitter cold. Curious, Cavendish followed her. 

She opened the door slightly, one hand gripping her shawl as she braced herself against the wind. Elliot thudded in with several packages, his snow covered boots dripping against the tile. His glasses, which always hid his eyes, had tiny icicles forming on them. 

His teeth audibly chattered as he handed over the packages. “T-thanks, ma-ma-ma’am,” he said. “Got the p-p-par-parcels you were ex-expecting. Ugh, c-cold.”

But Brigitte wasn’t paying attention, and she suddenly handed the packages back to a shivering Elliot, stepping onto the porch despite the snow. Cavendish meowed after her, trying to get her back inside before she either caught pneumonia or froze to death. He jumped over a puddle, and raced after her. 

Brigitte climbed down the front steps, her gaze fixed on her flowerbed where she spent the springtime gardening. Or at least, the spot where her flowerbed would’ve been if it wasn’t completely covered in snow. 

Cavendish stayed on the front porch, looking down through a gap in a border fence. There was something light brown lying in the snow, and Brigitte gently cradled it to her chest. She cooed softly towards the object, which Cavendish thought was a little strange. 

A cold breeze blew through his fur, and Cavendish decided he’d had enough of the outdoors and dashed back inside. He quickly claimed his spot by the fireplace and allowed the flames to miraculously chase away the iciness that had seeped into his body. 

Brigitte walked in shortly after, holding something wrapped in her shawl, and Martin looked at her in surprise. “I sent Elliot upstairs to change clothes and join us by the fire. Looks like you should do the same,” he suggested. 

“In a moment,” Brigitte replied. “I found this little tom in my flowerbed.” 

She unwrapped her shawl to reveal a kitten, who was frozen stiff with his eyes shut tight. 

“I put the packages on the table like you asked-” Sara began, her jaw dropping when she saw the kitten in her mother’s arms. Her voice rose to a high pitched squeal. “Oh my goodness, he’s so adorable and tiny! Can we keep him? Can I name him Orton?” 

Adorable? That tiny runt?

Cavendish huffed. Humans needed to work on their definition of adorable. Furthermore, who did they think they were, bringing a kitten into the house without consulting him first? 

He leaned closer to Brigitte as she swaddled the kitten in a fluffy towel, sniffing the kitten curiously. There wasn’t much of a scent. The snow had washed away most of it, leaving the kitten barely holding onto life. 

Martin sat next to his wife, letting her lean on his shoulder while he vigorously rubbed the kitten through the towel.  Sara sat on the floor, her eyes shimmering with tears as she worried for a kitten she barely knew. 

Then he heard a squeak. 

Cavendish’s ears twitched, and he saw the kitten blink tiredly. 

“Mom, Dad, he’s blinking!” Sara exclaimed. 

“I can feel his paws moving too,” Brigitte smiled. “He’s a fighter.” 

That was great, but the kitten wasn’t staying. As soon as he recovered, he was going to a different home. Cavendish refused to share his food bowl with anyone. 

“Don’t see anything wrong with using the traditional Murphy naming system for cats!” Martin exclaimed. “How about Maximillian?” 

Sara stuck her tongue out at that, and Cavendish couldn’t agree more. “I still say we should name him Orton.” 

Never mind. 

“I like Milo,” Brigitte suggested. Cavendish meowed in agreement. He’d take that name over the other stupid ideas any day. 

Sara and Martin conceded defeat. 

Fine, they could name the kitten. They were only hurting themselves when the time came to say goodbye. 

Later that evening, Brigitte placed Milo in Cavendish’s bed. Cavendish bumped her hand in protest, outraged. This was a travesty! He was not sharing his bed. 

“I know you’ll keep him company tonight,” Brigitte laughed. “It’s only temporary. We’ll get another bed for him soon.” 

Another bed? 

His tail lashed in frustration. What part of not keeping him did these humans not understand? 

Brigitte left for her own bedroom, and soon the fireplace was the only light source in the room, though it was starting to flicker and fade. 

“House rules,” Cavendish declared, curling up on the far side of his bed. “You are to stay on your side, and I’ll stay on mine.” 

Milo yawned, nuzzling his head into the soft blanket. Then a tree branch knocked into the window, causing a loud crash that made Cavendish shoot up in alarm. Milo mewed in fear, desperately curling into a trembling ball under the blanket. 

“You’ll suffocate like that!” Cavendish snapped. “Come out of there at once!” 

When Milo didn’t budge, he sighed and pulled back the blanket. Milo stared up at him, brown eyes wide and fearful. 

After a long silence, Cavendish gave up and flopped onto his stomach. He didn’t know why he was suddenly feeling guilty. “Fine. Tonight only. And no kicking.” 

Milo wasted no time cuddling into his side. He fell asleep, his chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. 

Nobody would be able to tell he had a brush with death a few hours earlier. 

“Good night, Milo,” he yawned, closing his eyes. It was only a temporary arrangement, he told himself as he drifted off. 

* * *

 

It was a nice day to sleep in. That is, if a certain someone would allow it. 

“Cavendish, wake up! Wake up! Guess what day it is!” Milo shouted excitedly. 

Cavendish placed his paws over his ears, groaning as the bed squeaked while Milo bounced all over it. “Milo, calm down. Gentlemen do not bounce on beds. But they do let their elders get some more sleep.”

“Just guess!” Milo exclaimed. 

“A day to sleep in,” Cavendish replied, turning over. 

“Wrong! It’s picnic day!” Milo squealed. Cavendish felt his head push against his side in an attempt to get him to stand up. 

He yawned. “Wonderful. The picnic isn’t until noon. Until then, I’m sleeping.” 

Giving up, Milo left to do something else. 

Cavendish snuggled deeper into the blanket, glad that the harsh winter had come to an end. Spring was here at last, and with it came more sunlight and warmth. 

Milo was lively, energetic, and had enough curiosity to kill a hundred cats. He was so unlike the kitten who’d been found frozen in the snow. Cavendish almost believed they were two separate beings. 

Why had he been so eager to be the lone cat in the mansion just a few months earlier? 

It was only five minutes before he heard a loud crash from the kitchen, followed by a string of harsh words. 

“-adopting strays left and right. What’s next, bringing home a bull? Well, bulls would be less destructive than you!” 

Cavendish stretched and headed to the kitchen to intervene in whatever mischief Milo had gotten into this time. 

Milo stood on the bottom shelf of a china cabinet, his ears flattened and eyes downcast. Elliot swept up the broken remains of a blue and white china plate, scolding Milo the entire time. 

“They took you in, and you’re repaying them by breaking all their stuff?” Elliot scolded. “Maybe a few days locked up in the pound would straighten you out.” 

Cavendish’s fur bristled, and he jumped on the shelf to retrieve Milo. Gently picking him up by the scruff, Cavendish trotted over to a small cup and knocked it off. The sound of the glass shattering was music to his ears. 

Elliot glared at him. “And now you’re just encouraging unsafe behavior.”

Cavendish set Milo down once they were a good distance away from Elliot. 

“I saw my reflection in the plate and wanted a closer look,” Milo explained, ducking his head. “Sorry. But why did you break that cup?”

“Well, Elliot was being a-” Cavendish stopped himself before he could say a word that a cat of his standing should never utter. “-rude. He never liked me, and I don’t like him. Besides, Martin is always breaking valuable objects. A plate and cup won’t be missed.” 

Milo tilted his head. “I still want to be friends with Elliot though.” 

“Avoid the china cabinet from now on,” Cavendish suggested. “ Not to mention high places, vases, umbrella stands, and especially Elliot’s shoelaces.” 

There was a rather unpleasant incident two weeks ago where Milo had gotten tangled up in Elliot’s shoelaces while playing and Martin had to cut him free with a knife from the kitchen because the knots were extremely tight. 

Elliot seemed to dislike Milo even more from that point on. 

The china dilemma was driven to the back of his mind as the Murphy family left for the park with Cavendish and Milo. Elliot had stayed behind at the mansion, refusing to go on an outing with the cats. It was for the best. He wouldn’t ruin everyone’s good spirits this way. 

It took several tries for the blanket to be set up. Martin kept making a mad dash for it when the breeze blew it away. Milo darted around their feet, purring when someone stopped to pet him. 

Cavendish let them have their fun. He was more interested in soaking up as much sun as he could. Besides, they left him in charge of the picnic basket. 

A rustling from a nearby bush made his ear twitch, but he didn’t think anything of it. Brigitte and Martin finally set up the blanket correctly, and Cavendish was about to join them when he heard a small thud from the other side of the picnic basket. 

To his shock, there was a small ginger kitten lying on its back after an unsuccessful climb up the wooden strips. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked. 

“Getting food. I’m starving,” the kitten replied. “Problem?” 

A she-cat. Cavendish had never been good with those. He inwardly groaned. 

“Several problems,” Cavendish said, moving the basket behind him so she couldn’t reach it. “You could eat something that could be potentially fatal to you. You’re also stealing food from my humans.” 

She shrugged. “Look, just toss me a slice of meat. Then I’ll be out of your fur.” 

Cavendish opened his mouth to scold her for this blatant disrespect, but Milo bounded over before he could say anything. “Hi, I’m Milo!” he exclaimed. “What’s your name?” 

“Don’t remember,” she shrugged. “Dunno what my parents called me.” 

“And just where are your parents?” Cavendish asked. 

She looked at him blankly. “I have no idea.” 

She was so casual about her situation too. Maybe she’d gotten used to fending for herself. She was so young to be alone. 

“Well, time to eat!” Sara exclaimed, rushing over to grab the basket. Then she laid eyes on the ginger kitten. “Oh my goodness, you’re so tiny and cute! Mom, Dad, we’ve got a guest!” 

The Murphy family huddled around her curiously. Once the shock wore off, the kitten reveled in all the attention, puffing out her chest proudly with her tail high in the air.

“Can we name him Orton?” Sara begged. 

“This one is a female,” Martin shook his head, amused by his daughter’s naming choices. 

“Orton? Yuck!” the kitten stuck her tongue out. 

Cavendish sneezed to hide his amusement. “She tried naming us that too. Seems to be a rite of passage into this family.” 

Sara crossed her arms. “She can still be named Orton.” 

“Since I picked Milo’s name, I believe it’s your turn,” Brigitte said to Martin. 

“Melissa?” Martin suggested. “I always liked that one.” 

Melissa grinned. “I like it. Can we eat now?”

“Let’s start over!” Milo exclaimed. “I’m Milo, and that’s Cavendish over there. The girl is Sara, and she’s really cool! You haven’t met him yet, but there’s Elliot the butler back at the mansion-” 

“Milo,” Cavendish interjected. “Remember to breathe.” 

Melissa listened as she devoured a slab of beef, tearing off every part of meat she could reach. 

Cavendish supposed it was his responsibility to teach her all the ways of a proper lady. 

* * *

 

Melissa adjusted to her new home quickly, taking no time at all for her and Milo to get into mischief. And when they had the mansion to themselves, Cavendish taught them the arts. Under his tutelage, Milo was slowly but surely learning basic skills on the piano. Melissa had taken an interest in painting, and she’d even done a perfect likeness of Elliot on one canvas. 

She’d captured his glasses perfectly, though they were oversized and bright purple on the canvas. 

Well, beauty was in the eye of the beholder. It was even hanging in Sara’s room. She found it so hilarious that she didn’t even question who painted it. 

Too bad Elliot didn’t share the same opinion. 

Cavendish looked out the window, seeing a horse drawn carriage pull into the entrance. “Lessons are done for the day,” he said. “You’ll have free time until supper.” 

Melissa washed off the paint that had gotten all over her paws, while Milo closed the heavy music book. They headed through the cat flap to play outside, since it was such a glorious day. 

Cavendish settled on a pillow that had been left on the windowsill, so that he could watch the activity outside. Martin and Brigitte entered the mansion and headed upstairs, while Elliot took the horse back to its stall. He was happy to see the horse aim a kick at Elliot. Served him right. 

Sara remained outside to play with Milo and Melissa, and all three ran in circles around the lawn, chasing each other joyfully. 

A carriage passed by on the main road. Nothing out of the ordinary. 

Then a brown sack was tossed out of the window, and the carriage sped off. 

Now that was more than a little strange. 

Cavendish hurried outside to investigate, ignoring the confused looks Sara and the kittens were giving him. They had been too engrossed in their game to notice. 

“Don’t go into the road!” Sara shouted after him. But Cavendish wasn’t listening to her. There was nobody else around. He’d be fine. 

The kittens padded after him, but Sara picked them up before they could follow him into the road. Sara might have been a little obsessed, but she knew how to keep the kittens safe. He was grateful for that. 

Since the sack was incredibly light, he had no issue tugging it to the sidewalk a few feet away. The open end hadn’t been secured with rope at all. At first, Cavendish thought it was money. 

But why would someone toss out something that was usually considered valuable? 

Milo and Melissa wiggled out of Sara’s hands, poking their heads inside the sack before Cavendish could stop them. 

“Whoa, are you feeling okay?” Melissa asked. 

An unfamiliar yelp came from the other end of the sack. “I get grabbed in my sleep, I’m tossed in here, I don’t know who you are, so no I am not okay!” 

Milo gasped. “That sounds horrible!”

“What’s going on?” Cavendish asked. “Who’s in there?” 

Milo lifted his head. “Another kitten,” he replied. 

Sara sat down, disgruntled that she couldn’t take part in the conversation. “Someone needs to invent an animal translator so I can understand you guys,” she muttered. 

Poking his head into the sack, Cavendish saw Melissa pushing a black kitten towards the open hole. Upon seeing him, the kitten froze, digging his claws into the sack. 

“You’ll be safe here,” Cavendish said. “We just want to know who you are.” 

“It’s okay-oof!” Milo managed to squeeze through Cavendish’s leg. “This is Cavendish. He’s grouchy but he does teach Melissa and me how to play piano and paint! Don’t let his mustache intimidate you!” 

“One day I’m teaching you how to introduce someone properly,” Cavendish muttered. And he usually wasn’t considered intimidating. Aloof was a much better term. 

“You should’ve seen him when Elliot stepped on his tail,” Melissa giggled. “It was hilarious.” 

It took some coaxing and more jokes at Cavendish’s expense for the black kitten to come out. A yellow collar hung from his neck, and he held one of his hind legs up slightly. He probably sustained that injury from the impact. 

“Wait, someone just tossed a kitten out like that?” Sara asked, a hand brought up to her mouth in shock. “Why? You poor thing!” 

“That’s Sara,” Melissa explained. “She’s really nice.” To demonstrate, she rubbed against Sara’s hand. She smiled and stroked Melissa’s ear. 

Milo also started demanding attention from Sara. Sara stretched her hand out towards the black kitten and held it there. 

Cavendish gave a nod of encouragement to the kitten, which was the final boost he needed to allow Sara to pet him. Sara set Milo in her lap, picking up the black kitten to get a closer look at his collar. 

“And you’re Zack,” Sara declared. “Man, I was gonna call you Orton!” 

“She tried naming every one of us Orton,” Milo said. “I wouldn’t mind being called that, but they decided on Milo instead. Which I’m fine with!” 

For the first time since his arrival, Zack purred. 

* * *

 

It had been a month since Zack’s arrival, and spring turned into summer, the best season for sprawling out in the sun. While he’d been timid and jumpy at first, Milo and Melissa’s support were invaluable. He also enjoyed singing along to Milo’s piano lessons. 

And it was hard for Cavendish to imagine a life without those three.


	2. Canines and Catastrophes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad you guys are enjoying this so much! Cats are so cute and fun to write for!

Milo concentrated on the piano keys, striking each note purposefully. It had been several months since Cavendish first began teaching him how to play, and he thought he was improving, but there were still many things he needed to work on. 

When he finished his scales, he glanced up at Cavendish, who sat next to him on the bench to observe. 

“Tomorrow we’ll spend extra time on the scales with sharps,” Cavendish said, nodding in approval. “Your technique is improving rapidly though, so we can continue to build on that. Perhaps I can also introduce you to part of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9 as well. I should think that would be appropriate for a beginner.” 

Milo looked down at his paws, trying not to swell with pride at the faint praise. It was rare that Cavendish voiced them out loud. 

“We’ll be stopping early today,” Cavendish nudged Milo off the bench, shutting the piano case over the keys so the Murphys didn’t come home to find the area a mess. 

Milo hadn’t expected that. Cavendish always pushed them to continue their lessons until the hour changed. “Why?” Milo asked. 

“Not only should a lady or gentleman possess skill in an art form, they should always know proper etiquette,” he replied. “Go tell Melissa and Zack to clean up, then all of you meet me in the parlor so we may begin.” 

Milo obeyed, scurrying off to the kitchen to find Melissa perched on a table, mixing red and blue paint on a palette. “Melissa! Cavendish says he wants us to meet him in the parlor for eat a kit lessons now!” 

Melissa tapped the canvas with a paint-covered paw, raising an eyebrow in confusion. “Why would he teach us how to eat kits?” she asked. “That’s just gross.” 

“Dunno,” Milo shrugged. “I’m sure whatever he wants us to do is gonna be fun though!”

“Whatever,” Melissa shrugged, checking over her painting one more time. “I tried Sara this time. What do you think?” 

Milo jumped on the chair, almost overshooting his mark, then scrambled onto the table for a good look. A glob of blue paint trailed from the right eye, almost like she was crying. “She’s smiling and crying at the same time?” 

“She’s not crying, that’s extra,” Melissa corrected, reaching up to wipe off the excess paint. “Great, now it’s smeared.” 

“I think you’re a great painter,” Milo reassured her. “Um, you might want to clean yourself first. Elliot didn’t like it when you left green prints on the tile.” 

Melissa quickly washed her paws off in the sink, and they searched the staircase for Zack. 

“Do mi so do do so mi do,” they heard Zack singing as they searched near the stairwell. Zack preferred doing his vocal exercises when nobody was watching, so he often took a music sheet and practiced on the landing of the stairs. He faced away from them, tail wiggling as he sang. “Every truly cultured music student knows....” 

Melissa placed her paw on Milo’s mouth to quiet him before he could call out to Zack. Then she hauled herself up on the landing, dropping into a crouch. She inched forward, keeping her rear high in the air as she approached. 

Then she pounced. 

Zack screeched so loudly, his voice echoed upstairs. Then he zoomed off in fright, almost bowling over Milo. 

Melissa fell on her back, giggling. “The Alley Cat Queen strikes again!” 

When they entered the parlor, they found Zack gasping for breath on the couch next to Cavendish. Unfortunately, he didn’t find it so amusing. 

“Melissa, ladies do not pounce,” Cavendish said sternly. “And Milo, don’t encourage her next time.” 

She glared at Zack, who stuck his tongue out at her. “Tattletale,” she muttered. 

Cavendish gestured for them to hop up. “Both of you come here, and we’ll begin our etiquette lesson.” Once Milo and Melissa were settled on the couch, they began. “First, do any of you understand what etiquette is?” 

“Yeah, and it sounds gross! I wouldn’t want to eat a kitten!” Milo declared. 

Cavendish raised an eyebrow in surprise. “I beg your pardon? What in heavens are you talking about?” 

“Milo said you were gonna teach us how to eat a kit,” Melissa explained innocently. 

“I bet Melissa tastes the worst,” Zack said. 

“Hey! I do not!” 

“Do too!

“Do not!” 

“That’s enough, both of you!” Cavendish interrupted. “Etiquette is a French word that describes how proper ladies and gentlemen behave. It does not involve eating kittens and I have no idea how you came to that conclusion. I expect you’ll listen more carefully from now on.” 

Milo nodded. “I promise!” 

“Posture comes first. Sit up straight. Tilt your chin up...not that high, Milo. That’s better. You want to appear tall and regal.” 

Tall and regal. Just like Cavendish. 

Milo didn’t think his fur would ever be quite as sleek, or that he could grow a mustache, but maybe that would come once he was grown. 

Cavendish circled the kittens, helping them into the proper position. Milo focused straight ahead, determined not to move. He watched Cavendish nudge Zack’s paws into the correct place out of the corner of his eye. Melissa kept slouching when she thought Cavendish wasn’t looking. 

Finally, it was Milo’s turn. The only adjustment he needed was moving his tail closer to his body.  

“You may relax,” Cavendish said finally. Milo stretched, trying to get all the kinks out of his back. He had no idea proper etiquette could hurt so much! “Since you’re new at this, you aren’t used to holding it for long periods of time.” 

“That felt like forever!” Zack complained, shaking out his paws to return some feeling.

Cavendish’s mustache twitched, as if he was trying to hide a smile. “If the Murphys make an attempt to introduce you to another person, you may need to hold that position for an incredibly long time to make a good impression.” 

“I hope I never get introduced,” Melissa mumbled. 

“I think we’ll end here. You’ll have a few hours of playtime,” Cavendish yawned. “Come back for supper. And please don’t make too much noise.” 

He shooed them out of the parlor, curling up on a cushion for some rest. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Not wanting to be stuck indoors on a cloudless day, they headed outside to play instead. “So now what?” Zack asked. 

“Hey, we haven’t seen Diogee for a few days. We should visit him!” Milo exclaimed. “Race you to the stables!” 

Diogee belonged to the Murphys, but he lived in the stables rather than the house. It suited him just fine though. Cavendish didn’t like him for reasons Milo didn’t understand. 

Something grabbed his tail and yanked him back, making him lose his balance. Zack tripped and wound up on top of him. “Queens first!” Melissa crowed in triumph, racing ahead and beating them into the barn. 

“You’re not a queen, you’re nothing but a cheater!” Zack complained. “You alright, Milo?” 

Milo shook himself off. “Since Melissa’s out, how about a race between you and me? Without tripping over each other, of course.” 

Zack scrambled off him, drawing a line in the gravel that would serve as their starting line. “Ready!” Milo called, placing his front paws behind the mark. 

“Go!” Zack shouted, and they tore off to the stables. “I’m beating you!” 

“No you’re not!” Milo laughed breathlessly, sprinting as fast he could. He felt the gravel change to smooth dirt under his paws, but it was too late to stop, and he crashed headfirst into a pile of hay. 

He climbed out, sneezing several times when the hay tickled his nose. 

“Who won? Achoo!” Milo pawed at his face, flicking off the material that clung to his fur. 

“You did,” Melissa said. “By a whisker. It was close. But in terms of actually stopping when you’re supposed to, then Zack won.” 

Zack panted, flopping onto the floor. “Just bring Diogee over here. I’m still recovering.” 

“Diogee!” Milo hollered. 

“Hey! Diogee!” Melissa screamed. 

A series of happy barks came from the back of the stables. Diogee bounded out, tail wagging as he licked each of them in greeting. 

“Sorry, I asked Cavendish and he said a stable wasn’t any place for a kitten. Something about stunting my growth,” Milo said sheepishly. Diogee whined. “Maybe when I’m older we can have a sleepover!” 

Diogee bent his stubby legs, allowing them to climb onto his back. Milo had taken the spot closest to his head, Zack carefully climbed on in the middle, and Melissa sat in the back. 

Milo took hold of Diogee’s long, floppy ears, and gave him a light tap to the side. “Onward!” he shouted. 

“Best steed ever!” Melissa yelled in delight. 

Zack clung to Milo to keep his balance as Diogee swiftly dashed around the mansion grounds. “Whoo-hoo!” he screeched. 

Milo tugged on Diogee’s left ear to make him turn left, then started guiding him in a zigzag pattern. They were thrown from side to side as he slalomed through the various topiaries that dotted the gardens. 

He was certain they would be scolded for messing up their fur before dinner, but it was hard to worry over what Cavendish would think when this was the most excitement they’d had in the past week. 

“Arf!” He began rushing to a pond surrounded by stones by the bushes. 

“He’s going for the koi pond?” Zack yelped. “I don’t want to be in there! I don’t like fish!” 

“You’re a cat!” Melissa protested. 

“So?” 

Milo pulled on Diogee’s right ear, turning him away from the koi pond and towards the front porch. “Sorry, none of us want to be dripping wet. And Zack is scared of fish.” 

“I’m not scared of fish!” Zack retorted. “I just don’t like how they look at me!” 

“Elliot on starboard!” Milo shouted. “I heard it once on Sara’s radio dramas. Don’t know what starboard is, but it sounds cool!” 

Elliot carried a large bag up the steps, whistling a jaunty tune to himself. 

“Turn! Turn!” Melissa shrieked. Milo frantically tugged on Diogee’s ear, but he’d built up so much speed that he didn’t swerve out of the way in time and crashed directly into the back of Elliot’s legs. 

The force threw everyone off Diogee’s back. Melissa yelped when Zack squashed her, while Milo clumsily tumbled off to the side. Milo licked his aching leg, but other than that he felt fine. Elliot made a sound like a leaky tire when he fell on his face. 

The bag had been squashed under Elliot’s stomach when he fell. Milo poked the part that was sticking out, smelling something fresh and warm inside. Then something grabbed the scruff of his neck, making him yelp. He didn’t mind being picked up there, since Cavendish did it all the time when he got stuck in something. But this was much rougher than he was used to. 

Elliot glared at him. “You and the others are a safety hazard. One day of peace is all I ask. But can’t give that to me, can you?” he complained. 

Milo attempted to nuzzle his hand, but he couldn’t reach. 

“Don’t give me the cute act,” Elliot snapped. “You’re always trying to save your hide with that one. Diogee, go to the stables! You aren’t supposed to be near the mansion.” 

“Thanks for hanging out with us,” Milo told him. “It was fun!” 

Diogee left, sending wary glances at Elliot. 

Elliot grabbed Melissa, Zack, and the squashed bag, fumbling with the keys before finally unlocking the door. He deposited the bag in the kitchen, groaning at the messy palette that had been left on the table. 

“Aren’t you trained to not run into people? I could’ve been seriously injured on those steps!” Elliot growled. 

“What part of it was an accident do you not get?” Melissa yowled back. 

“He can’t understand us,” Zack mumbled. 

Melissa’s tail lashed. “I don’t care! He’s always blaming us for things that aren’t our fault!” 

“What if I had been on the porch? Then I might’ve had a concussion! And you flattened the bread my employers asked me to pick up,” Elliot stomped away, continuing his furious tirade under his breath. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“-then we crashed into Elliot. He should’ve moved!” Melissa complained, forgetting that Cavendish had ordered them to groom before they received dinner.  

“Wash behind your ears thoroughly, Zack,” Cavendish said. “I can still smell dog on you.” 

“Okay,” Zack said. “Is Elliot always like that?” 

Cavendish sighed, licking his own paw and trying to flatten the tuft of fur on Milo’s head that never seemed to stay down. “I disregard anything he says. He always exaggerates the danger of a situation. Why, he yelled at me once for not exiting a room he was trying to dust. Accused me of deliberately shedding over the areas he was cleaning and stirring up allergies. I will never understand that human.” 

“He’s a worse killjoy than you,” Melissa muttered. 

“Pardon me?” Cavendish whipped his head around, offended at such a notion.

Milo continued to lick his paws. He didn’t mind grooming taking more time than usual. He was just happy he had a family to share it with. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ode to Joy is a common piece for beginners. I have a soft spot for it, I’ll admit. 
> 
> The kittens are a pawful, that’s for sure! 
> 
> I used a little bit of the movie's dialogue here too. See if you can spot it! 
> 
> Radio dramas became popular in the 1920s, not in 1910. If Disney’s allowed anachronism, then so am I. 
> 
> Diogee is a good doggo.


	3. Catnapping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, let’s get to the meat!

Seven broken plates. Half of William Shakespeare’s bust shattered. Twenty-three incidents of paint being tracked onto the carpet. 

All within the past week. 

Elliot was fed up. And nobody would take any action to prevent these accidents from occurring. 

If he scolded the kittens, Cavendish would hiss and cart them all off to another room. Sara and Brigitte lectured the kittens about being more careful, but they giggled afterward as if they found the entire thing adorable. Martin always joked about Milo being a mini-him. 

He missed being the town’s traffic cop. “People just don’t know how dangerous using dark colored carts at night can be,” Elliot muttered as he furiously scrubbed a particularly tough stain on a serving dish. “I could’ve built my career out of that job, you know.” 

Being fired from that position over causing a buildup in traffic in the main plaza really put a dent into his plans to enforce safety guidelines. Only the Murphys were willing to provide employment for him. While the salary was reasonable, he found that being reduced to cleaning up after felines was just plain humiliating. 

He finished washing the dishes, laying them out a cloth to dry. At least Milo wasn’t here to ruin all his hard work. 

A sudden crash came from the entrance hall, and Elliot groaned, wondering what mess he had to clean up this time. However, no amount of dread prepared him for the sight of the largest mess he’d ever seen in the mansion.  The enormous grandfather clock was completely destroyed, blocking the bottom of the staircase. Melissa managed to get out of the mess unscathed, but Zack had a large gear caught around his neck. He quickly slipped out of it. 

He couldn’t even see Milo. But he had no doubt that kitten had already found a way to get into more trouble. 

At this point, he was convinced Milo was a black kitten masquerading as a brown kitten. 

Right on cue, Cavendish showed up to inspect the wreckage, keeping a careful distance from Elliot. Then he ducked into the opening where the pendulum formerly was, emerging with Milo dangling from his jaws by his scruff. Glaring at Elliot as if daring him to pry Milo away, Cavendish took careful steps until he reached the archway, then he dashed away. Melissa and Zack scampered after them. 

Sighing, Elliot pulled a broom and dustpan out of the closet and worked on clearing the bottom of the stairs. 

* * *

 

Elliot should’ve been making supper for the cats. But he was still caught up in wondering how the Murphys shrugged off any accidents that occurred in the household. Sometimes it was Martin being clumsy, but Milo definitely put him to shame. If it existed, Milo would find a way to get stuck and occasionally drag Melissa and Zack into his hijinks too. 

Cavendish was troublesome in his own way. He never moved when Elliot wanted to clean the place he laid on and he didn’t like to be touched. Elliot still had a few scratches on his forearm to prove it. 

He poured several bottles of milk into the pot, then waited for it to heat up. The cupboard door repeatedly opened and closed from the inside, and Elliot opened it to find Milo playing inside. 

“Shoo! Get out! Trying to make your dinner here!” Elliot shouted at him. 

Milo purred instead. 

Sighing, Elliot took Milo out and pointed to the parlor. He slunk off in disappointment. 

He turned back to check on the milk when he noticed a single, small bottle lying on its side in the cupboard. 

Sleeping pills. 

They were intended to treat the bouts of insomnia Martin occasionally got, but an idea was starting to form in his mind. 

He glanced at the milk, then to the bottle. If the Murphys couldn’t figure out how to make their mansion a safe place to live, then it was up to him to create a safe work environment. 

Elliot dumped all the pills into the milk. 

As an afterthought, he added several tablespoons of sugar and cinnamon to the mixture to disguise the bitterness of the pills. He was feeling merrier every passing second. 

“I think I outdid myself!” Elliot crowed. “I shall make everywhere I go a secure place to live! I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before. If people hesitate about basic safety, then it’s up to me to enforce basic safety and remove anything that threatens their livelihood!” 

Humming, he poured the milk into four golden bowls. It splashed and swirled in the bowl, unable to be discerned from regular milk. 

“Special treat coming through!” Elliot called, setting the tray on the floor. Milo and Zack were the first ones to the bowls, lapping it up eagerly. Melissa and Cavendish were more cautious, but eventually they started slurping it up too. 

While they ate, Elliot went back to the kitchen to clean up. He disposed of the bottle, congratulating himself on a job well done. 

* * *

 

The kittens had fallen asleep before the sun set. Cavendish stayed awake long enough to move them to his bed, but he didn’t even make it onto the cushion. He snoozed with his stomach pressed on the exterior of the bed. 

Elliot waited until the Murphys retired for the night, then crept downstairs with a basket and blanket in hand. His shoe hit on a creaky step, and he shrieked, looking up in case anyone came rushing out of their rooms at the noise. 

But nobody noticed. 

Sighing in relief, Elliot made his way to the cats. He set the basket down, marveling at how unassuming they were while asleep. An outsider would never think they were menaces to a safe household. 

But he knew better. 

It was almost surreal to pick up Cavendish without being hissed at, or getting away without any of his clothes ripped. But nobody put up a fight when he moved them to the basket. The fiercest struggle he had was Zack’s paw kicking out while she slept. 

He tied a bow on the handle, carefully making sure every part of the opening was covered by the blanket. As he tucked in one of the corners, Melissa turned over, opening her eyes halfway before they shut again. He dismissed it as nothing. She wouldn’t remember any of this tomorrow. 

* * *

 

Elliot only had a beat up, sputtering motorbike to his name. But it was enough to carry out the plan. The basket was nestled into the sidecar, and he rode through the city without anyone questioning what he was up to. 

Then he saw the sign for the police station around the block, and in sheer panic he chose a random direction away from there. How could he possibly make the world a safer place if he got tossed in the slammer? 

His plan wasn’t to kill the cats. Just dump them somewhere far away so they could never return. It was perfectly sound. 

His search for a place to deposit the cats took him to the countryside, far from all the hustle and bustle of the big city. He drove over a stone bridge that overlooked a great river. The undergrowth here was long and plentiful, good for hiding the basket and further confusing the cats when they woke up. 

The road thinned out, and Elliot figured he was in the clear. He dismounted, lifting the basket halfway out of the sidecar before loud screeching startled him. A bead of sweat trickling down his neck, he dismissed it as nothing. Then the screeching grew louder, and a horde of monkeys suddenly appeared out of the brush. 

Elliot shrieked, scrambling onto the motorbike and revving the engine repeatedly as the monkey horde rushed closer. He almost fell out of his seat when it suddenly launched forward. 

“Come on, come on,” he murmured frantically, trying to put some distance between them. He turned around to check how close they were. 

He could see the bloodlust in those beady eyes as they came closer with their hands outstretched, ready to tear his bones out of his flesh. To his dismay, monkeys were faster than he thought. 

He turned the motorbike around, fleeing in the direction he came. “Phew,” he sighed, relieved they wouldn’t follow him anymore. A soft hooting made him look to the handlebars. 

A monkey. 

Elliot screamed, losing control of his bike. Several other monkeys clambered on, screeching in glee as they enjoyed the thrill ride. They were everywhere. Playing with the handlebars, jingling the keys, swarming the sidecar....

“Go away!” Elliot yelled, trying to tug a simian off his arm. But the monkey latched on tighter. To his horror, another one was eyeing the latch to the sidecar. “Leave that alone!” he yelled, throwing his hat at it.  

The hat missed completely, landing on the side of the road. The monkey undid the latch, sending the sidecar careening down the steep hill. The basket tumbled out, landing somewhere near the riverbank. 

As a last resort, Elliot spun the motorbike in a circle and hung on for dear life as the monkeys were sent flying. They landed roughly in the grass and on the road, moaning in pain. 

Satisfied, Elliot turned his bike to the bridge and headed back to the city. 

He had finally gotten rid of those dangerous cats. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Giving your cats milk upsets their digestion. Please do not attempt it.
> 
> I’m pretty sure you could overdose a person with the amount of sleeping pills Edgar dumped into the milk in the movie. 
> 
> I’m hunting Elliot down with a team of fluffy wolves. Who wants in?


	4. An Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok, here’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for! Shout out to cutiepie-tro and hyenasmurphyslaw for their adorable art of kitties Dakota and Cavendish!

Dakota followed the river upstream, his stomach grumbling. He was growing tired of mice as his main food source. It was time to mix up his diet with something else. 

After all, he had been craving fish lately. 

And he didn’t mind venturing into the countryside to catch something for breakfast. Besides, the stretch of water that cut through the city was terrible for fishing. Too many noisy people, too much competition, too many horses who couldn’t see where they were going and accidentally stepping on some poor kitty’s tail. 

Food and fresh air were always worth the trip. He lifted his nose, smelling the fresh scent of wildflowers and songbirds. It beat the lingering traces of humans everywhere he went. He’d become accustomed to it over time, but occasionally he got that strong whiff from someone who’d never washed a day in their life.  

As Dakota walked alongside the bank, his paws fell into a rhythm. He’d never tap out a good beat like some of the alley cats in town, but it was enough for a casual stroll. 

Jumping onto the bridge, he continued to scat along to his own beat. 

“Come out at once! We haven’t time for games!” 

The voice had a strange accent to Dakota. No alley cat ever spoke so eloquently. Curious, he leapt onto a flowering tree branch and hid among the leaves. 

Another cat wandered below, poking his head into the reeds as he appeared to search for something. His sleek, silver fur reminded Dakota of the moon. And...was that a mustache? He’d never seen any feline with a mustache before. 

Most strangely of all, there was a green collar around his neck. If he belonged to the humans, then what was he doing out here? 

The cat started rooting around the tree Dakota was perched in. He wouldn’t be catching any prey that way. Dakota was almost worried this cat would starve to death. 

Then Dakota noticed the pink blossoms that dotted the end of the branch. Smirking, he carefully placed his paw on the edge and shook it vigorously, sending a cascade of petals onto the unsuspecting cat below. 

He sneezed, his head whipping up to glare furiously into the tree. His light blue eyes seemed to bore into Dakota’s hiding place. 

Dakota was instantly dazzled. He’d never seen eyes like those before. 

Unfortunately, he didn’t realize he’d stretched out for a closer look. He lost his balance, tumbling through the air. He twisted his body so he’d land on all fours, his paws hitting something soft that definitely didn’t feel like grass. 

The cat underneath him squirmed around to glare at him. “Do you mind?” he growled, his ears flicking in irritation. 

“Yo,” Dakota said, scrambling off his back. “You’ll never catch anything that way.” 

The other cat shook himself off, pointedly turning his back to Dakota. “I’m not catching anything.” 

Now that Dakota was closer to this strange fellow, he could smell the lingering scent of human on him. “So, abandoned by your human? Or did you get lost on  a trip? What’s your name, anyway?” 

His questions were met with a lashing tail. “We were not abandoned! And I don’t give out my name to ruffians such as yourself! Furthermore-” He trailed off, as if he had remembered something. “The kittens!” 

“Kittens?” Dakota said in surprise. He never would’ve pegged this cat as a father otherwise. 

“You’re distracting me from my search!” the cat yelled. He kicked a rock in frustration, as if somehow expecting to find a kitten there. 

“How about I help you out?” Dakota suggested. The other cat’s ears flattened. “Look, I’m not stealing or eating them or whatever you pampered upper crusts think alley cats do to kittens.” 

“Fine,” the other cat huffed. “Just this once. My name is Cavendish, and you are?” 

Dakota grinned, even if Cavendish probably didn’t find it too appropriate given the situation. “Dakota. Nice to meet ya.” 

“I’m looking for three kittens,” Cavendish quickly explained, his words brisk and leaving no room for further introduction. “Two toms and a she-cat.” 

They made their way to the riverbank to begin their search. Dakota noticed something shiny and metallic lying partly into the water. It was a strange shape. Almost like a large chicken egg, but there was a seat cut out in the upper portion. Two wheels lay scattered several feet away. 

It obviously belonged to a human. 

“Cavendish!” he called, unable to resist climbing to the top of the strange object. “Check this out!”

Cavendish rushed over, but he was far more interested in the deep groove. “This is Elliot’s,” he said, dumbfounded. “No, that’s ridiculous. He’s not the only one in the city with a sidecar attached to his motorbike.” 

Dakota tilted his head. “Who’s Elliot?” 

“The butler in our mansion. He was terrible at his job. Always going off at us for minor slights,” Cavendish said. “But he’s not important right now.” 

Then Dakota heard a tiny yawn echoing from the sidecar. He jumped down and peered inside. To his surprise, there was a small ginger kitten with a pink collar stretching out, clearly half-asleep. “Found one,” he whispered. Cavendish climbed in, bringing out the kitten, who yawned again. 

“I was having a weird dream,” she said sleepily. “We were bouncing along a bumpy road and there was a lot of screeching.” 

Cavendish bent down, licking the fur on her head. He’d been nothing but cross and irritated earlier, so the gentle and comforting side was completely new. It wasn’t such a bad surprise, Dakota thought. 

Then her eyes popped open. “Who’s that?” she asked, blinking up at Dakota. 

“I’m just a stray who happened to be passing by. Name’s Dakota. Helping your old tom here find some missing kitties,” Dakota said. 

Cavendish’s fur bristled. “I’m not old! And the kittens were all adopted off the streets at different times, so none of us are related!” 

Members of the high class who were willing to take in homeless kittens? He’d never heard that one before. But based on Cavendish’s tone, he wasn’t joking. 

“I’m Melissa, the Alley Cat Queen!” she boasted proudly, puffing her chest out as far as it would go. 

Dakota liked her already. 

“Melissa, what did we learn about boasting?” Cavendish asked sternly. 

Melissa sighed. “A lady does not partake in boasting.” 

Nodding in approval, Cavendish went upstream to find the other kittens. Dakota was about to join him, when he heard pawsteps in the dirt. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Melissa slowly creeping toward him. He couldn’t help but play along, so he slowed his pace. 

If they had time later, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to show her the proper way to pounce. Her tail was pointed too high for her stalking to be effective. 

Melissa paused, then sprung at Dakota’s side. Then she bounced off his pelt, landing on her back. 

“Not bad,” Dakota said. “But stick around and I can show you how to make it better.” 

Melissa’s eyes sparkled at that. 

They rejoined Cavendish, who was combing through the reeds carefully. “Zack! Milo!” he shouted. “Answer if you can hear me!” 

Dakota checked one of the steeper slopes along the riverbank, in case a kitten had wandered over here and couldn’t be seen through the thick undergrowth. He couldn’t follow a scent trail, since the water likely washed it away. 

Then he noticed a pair of brown eyes gazing fearfully at him. 

“You okay?” Dakota asked, glad that he had been nearby. The river could’ve easily washed him away. 

The kitten stepped out, his black fur damp. He shivered. “No,” he said. “I got tossed out again.” 

“Again?” Dakota echoed, laying down. He invited the kitten over, who quickly curled up next to his fur in a desperate bid for warmth. 

“Yeah. Cavendish said I was tossed out of a carriage. Someone put me in a sack,” he explained. 

Dakota paused, remembering how Marcus had come to the abandoned apartment where many of the city’s alley cats hung out. He was exhausted, having searched the city for any signs of his son, who’d been stuffed into a sack while asleep and taken away. But none of the other cats had seen a black kitten wandering the streets. 

Marcus and Eileen’s human was one of the biggest reasons Dakota disliked people. 

And the kitten’s appearance and story seemed to match Marcus' description of his son and situation.

“Cavendish is looking for you, kit,” Dakota nudged him to his feet. “Come on.” 

“You know him?” the kitten gasped, running ahead of Dakota slightly. “How?” 

“Fell on him,” Dakota winked. 

Cavendish appeared out of the brush, heaving a sigh of relief. “Zack, are you alright? Dakota, where was he?” 

Dakota pointed to the thick clump of reeds. “He must’ve fallen in the water. But he should be fine once the shock wears off.” 

Cavendish was practically smothering Zack while warming him up. Melissa purred and rubbed against both of them. “Where’s Milo?” Zack asked, poking his head out of Cavendish’s fur. 

He took a deep breath. His tail twitched, betraying how worried he was about the last kitten. “Don’t know yet,” he answered. “But we’ll find him.” 

“I’ll find him before you, Zack!” Melissa yowled, suddenly taking off. 

“No, you won’t!” Zack shouted back. They darted towards the stone bridge, each of them trying to beat the other in finding Milo. 

Cavendish’s ears flicked anxiously. 

“Hey, they could use a little tracking practice,” Dakota suggested. “Even if they aren’t so good with stealth yet. But hey, they’ll figure it out eventually.” 

“They shouldn’t have to worry about hunting and tracking,” Cavendish said quietly. “They should’ve been learning the arts. This mess has completely disrupted their schedule.” 

“What kind of arts?” Dakota asked. “Like painting?” 

“For Melissa. Zack is learning to sing while Milo and I play piano,” Cavendish explained as they padded after the kittens. 

“Huh. You’re busier than I thought you’d be,” Dakota said. Alley cats rarely ventured into the affluent part of town. And they never had much interaction with housebound cats beyond an occasional peek into the window. 

Cavendish huffed. “What? We don’t spend all our time in front of the fireplace and eating cream out of golden bowls. Besides, the kittens liven up the house. The Murphys love them.” 

“So if your humans loved them, then why were you all tossed out?” Dakota asked. 

Cavendish paused, his tail drooping. “I’m not sure. One moment we were drinking milk, and the next we wound up here. Call it strange if you want, but I have a feeling they weren’t the ones who brought us here.” 

“All right, I’m calling it strange,” Dakota replied. 

Cavendish stared at him, looking slightly amused. “I didn’t mean literally.” 

“You said if you want, and I wanted to,” Dakota shrugged. 

“You are a very peculiar feline,” Cavendish sighed. 

Dakota grinned at him. “Thanks! It’s good to meet another cat who thinks I’m clawfully interesting. Purrhaps we could do dinner sometime.” 

Cavendish groaned. “Perfect. Just what I need. A cat with a propensity for fancy wordplay.” 

“I try,” Dakota boasted proudly. 

They followed Melissa and Zack back to where the grass wasn’t so high, finding them underneath the bridge. “Milo!” Melissa shouted. 

“Milo! Come on already!” Zack yelled. 

A basket next to them stirred, and a kitten poked his head out. “Hey, guys. What’s going on?” 

Melissa and Zack stared at him, bewildered. 

“Milo, when I call for you, I expect an answer,” Cavendish scolded, though it didn’t hold much weight when he was purring and nuzzling the side of Milo’s head. 

“Sorry,” Milo said, crawling out of the basket. He looked around, taking in his surroundings. “Where are we? And who’s that?” 

“That’s Dakota!” Melissa exclaimed. “He helped find Zack, and he said he’d show me how to pounce!” 

“Cool!” Milo exclaimed, seeming to forget all about being lost. “Can I learn too?” 

“I’d like to learn!” Zack said. 

Cavendish cleared his throat, and everyone quieted down instantly. “There’s no need for that. Once we get home, you won’t even need to rely on that sort of barbaric thing.” 

Dakota couldn’t believe his ears. While he didn’t mind the obvious class divide, there was something extremely stupid about not learning basic survival skills that all alley cats learned from a young age. Heck, even some housebound cats knew how to leap for birds. 

But these clearly didn’t. And if Dakota didn’t speak up now, they would surely starve to death.

“If you wanna get back safely, you’re gonna need someone who knows these streets,” Dakota suggested. “Besides, you can’t rely on humans for food. Can’t rely on them for much actually. Besides, the kittens seem eager. And what mentor would turn down a willing apprentice? Or several apprentices, in this case?” 

Milo jumped up excitedly. “Can Dakota come along? He seems cool!” 

“Please?” Zack begged, his eyes wide. 

“I wanna learn how to hunt! And fish! And pounce!” Melissa exclaimed. 

Cavendish’s eyes flickered between all of them, then over to Dakota. After a long time, he nodded slowly. “I admit, I have reservations about hunting and pouncing and whatnot. But I suppose you have a valid point since we want to make it back unharmed. Very well. You’re our guide from now until we get back home.” 

“Sounds great to me,” Dakota grinned. 

His ears perked, detecting the sounds of several rumbling bellies. 

“But first, we eat.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the Dakavendish begins at last! I guess you can Dakota really FELL for him! 
> 
> On a more serious note, Zack’s background is partially inspired by a story my mom told me about a female cat her family had when she was little. She grew up in 1970′s Philippines, so neutering/spaying as we know it today didn’t exist/was unaffordable there anyway. The female cat got pregnant a lot, and whenever the litter was old enough to eat solid food, they were taken away from the mother and killed. 
> 
> Since they were poor, I understand they couldn’t afford the extra mouths. But the animal lover side of me was completely horrified that they’d do such a thing. I’ll admit, I don’t fully understand the situation and I probably never will.


	5. Street Saviore Faire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We actually have a cat who regularly hangs out on campus by the Chemistry and Physics building. Wonder if he’s studying to be an...ALCATMIST! 
> 
> I’m dumb. XD

Melissa’s stomach grumbled, and she groaned. “Where’s the nearest bowl of milk out here?” 

“Forget that, where are the humans?” Cavendish lashed his tail in irritation. “There’s nobody out here but us.” 

Dakota raised an eyebrow. “First rule. You don’t know where the next meal is. Second, you can’t rely on humans to give you food. They’ll chase you away on sight with butcher knives and axes.” 

He said it with such confidence that Melissa was almost inclined to believe him. But the mental image of a large human looming over her with a bloodstained ax didn’t match up at all with Martin, Brigitte, and Sara. As much as she disliked Elliot, she knew even he wouldn’t dare chopping them into pieces. 

However, apparently he was not above dumping them into the streets. 

Milo pawed at Dakota curiously. “Can you show us how to hunt now?” 

Dakota grinned. “I like this kitten. Enthusiastic. C’mon, everyone down to the river.” 

Cavendish and Zack perched on a rock to avoid the water, but Melissa and Milo didn’t mind getting their paws wet. “Don’t go into the deeper parts!” Cavendish shouted at them. 

“Zack, the water’s great! What are you so scared of?” Melissa asked, flicking a few drops his way. 

Zack flinched, almost tripping over his tail. “There’s fish. You know a fish could have a mouth wide enough to swallow me whole, right?” he gulped. “Not worth the risk.” 

“Don’t worry, the fish that live here aren’t big enough for that,” Dakota chuckled. “Those types are all in the ocean.” 

Zack squeaked and hid his face in Cavendish’s fur. 

Melissa sighed. What a baby. 

“I’ll stay with Zack,” Cavendish said. “You may go with Dakota if you wish, but do be careful. Besides, I’d prefer not being wet.” 

“Don’t worry. I can handle them,” Dakota grinned. “I’m starving. The early cat catches the fish. Or however it goes, I forget.” 

Melissa and Milo splashed after Dakota, as he led them to the other side of the bridge. The water flowed slightly faster than before, so Melissa and Milo stuck to the edge to avoid being swept away. 

“This area should be fine. Catching fish is trickier than pouncing for mice or squirrels for most cats, so it’s fine if you mess up,” Dakota said. 

“What’s the biggest fish you ever caught?” Milo asked curiously. 

Dakota put a claw to his chin in thought. “Well, I guess the perch I caught a moon ago was pretty ginormous. Probably four tail lengths long. Filled me up for the rest of the day too.” 

“I bet I can catch one that’s five tail lengths and beat your record!” Melissa exclaimed. The mental image of Cavendish’s face when she dragged a fish much larger than herself for him to see was almost too much for her. 

“Holding you to that,” Dakota flicked her nose with his tail playfully. “Okay, now watch me. Put some bubbles in those mouths. Can’t lose our breakfast you know.”

Milo sucked in a deep breath and closed his mouth so that his cheeks expanded to comical proportions. Rolling her eyes, Melissa poked his face and Milo made a noise that sounded like a tire deflating. 

Dakota waited with his paw extended, sharp claws angled down and ready to strike. Melissa copied his pose, though she was much wobblier on three legs. Before she could blink, Dakota had scooped out a large fish with his paw, quickly biting down on its neck. The fish flopped weakly for several seconds, then fell limp. 

“You wanna try now?” he asked. 

They nodded eagerly, positioning themselves in the water like Dakota had. “Watch your shadow,” Dakota said. “You don’t wanna scare them. They’d think you’re some supersized cat and not approach you.” 

She scanned the water, her tail flicking impatiently as she waited for some kind of movement. Couldn’t they just leap into her mouth instead? A flash of silver caught her eye, and she felt something wet and scaly against her paw. She tried hooking her claws into the fish and getting it out of the water, but it slipped away before she could bite down. 

Milo wasn’t having much luck either. Somehow he’d managed to fall into the river. He sneezed, shaking himself off. 

Catching their disappointed faces, Dakota just smiled reassuringly. “Chins up, no big deal. Just try again. You’ll get it.” 

Melissa thought back to Dakota’s form, and how quickly he caught the fish once he snagged it. She needed to be quick about it, so she shook herself briefly to loosen her muscles. Making sure her shadow wasn’t in the water, she waited patiently with her paw out. 

The moment she felt movement against her paw, she scooped it up and quickly slapped it on the bank, biting down on the scaly flesh. The fish wriggled under her, but succumbed to the same fate as Dakota’s catch. 

She looked up, proud of herself. Then her heart stopped as she realized there was a huge size difference between the two. Dakota’s fish was large, probably enough to feed two kittens. However, Melissa’s was bony, tiny, and hardly worthy of a meal. 

“Hey, you did good,” Dakota said. “You’ll get better, don’t worry. You definitely have a bit of alley cat in you.” 

It was strange to hear nothing but compliments coming out of Dakota. He definitely didn’t get involved as much as Cavendish, who corrected every detail no matter how small. Or worse, rescued them from every perceived danger. 

“I got it!” Milo yelled, splashing around as he tried to wrestle a fish slightly larger than him to the shore. The fish thrashed madly in his grip, refusing to cooperate. Before Melissa could blink, Dakota yanked Milo off by the scruff of his neck, allowing the fish to break free and swim away. 

Dakota deposited Milo on dry land, quickly checking over him for injuries. “Careful, you don’t want to become a catfish,” he joked. “What would I tell Cavendish?” 

“Don’t tell Cavendish please!” Melissa begged. “He won’t let us out of his sight ever again!” 

“He let us go with Dakota,” Milo said. “We should do this again! Maybe we can get Zack to join us next time.” 

Dakota shrugged. “Well, I guess I can teach you three how to hunt mice. He might be better at catching land-dwelling prey. Anyway, why don’t you two go ahead and eat that fish I caught before it rots? I’ll just grab a few more for the rest of us.” 

Milo sniffed at the fish, wrinkling his nose. “It smells funny.” 

“You heard Dakota. We can’t be picky,” Melissa said. She took a deep breath, then tore off a strip of the silvery scales, exposing the flesh underneath. 

Noticing the fish’s dead, glazed eye staring up at her, she was starting to think Zack had an excellent reason for being afraid of these creatures. 

Ignoring the pungent odor, she and Milo devoured the fish. The taste reminded of her of a salt shaker they accidentally broke while playing on the dining table a few weeks ago. The white crystals had clung to her fur and given her a dry tongue when she’d tried licking them off. 

Before she knew it, they’d stripped the fish to nothing but bone. 

Milo licked the last of the scales off his whiskers. “That tasted better than I thought!” he exclaimed. 

“It was okay,” Melissa said. “Definitely prefer cream though.” 

“Yeah, fish is kind of an acquired taste,” Dakota agreed. There were three extra fish laying at his paws. “Shouldn’t keep them waiting. Especially not my belly.” 

Melissa decided to bring back her minnow as proof that she’d managed to catch something. They made their way back to the rocks where they’d left Cavendish and Zack. Melissa and Milo ran ahead, since Dakota was slower with all the prey he carried. 

Cavendish had fallen asleep, but Zack was poking around in the tall grass nearby. 

“Guess what, Zack?” Melissa called, dropping her catch. “I caught a minnow!” 

“Uh, that’s great,” Zack grinned nervously. 

Dakota put the fish he carried down, a mischievous smirk on his face. “How about a second lesson? Stalking unsuspecting prey.” He flicked his tail toward Cavendish. “That’s your target.” 

Melissa dropped into a crouch, creeping to the left so she could unbalance Cavendish. Milo and Zack followed her lead. 

“Wait, what are you guys doing?” Dakota asked. 

They stopped, looking up at Dakota in confusion. 

“Pouncing?” Milo offered. 

“Let an old pro show you how it’s done,” Dakota lowered his voice so it was nothing more than a soft growl. “Stay low to the ground.” 

The kittens obeyed, adjusting their positions so their bellies nearly scraped the ground. Melissa felt a large paw cover her back, gently pushing her lower. 

“Not a sound,” Dakota murmured. They slowly crawled forward. Melissa focused heavily on not making a single noise with her paws. “One more step...NOW!”

They pounced on Cavendish’s back, and he awoke with a loud screech. Melissa hooked her claws into his pelt so she didn’t get thrown off from his wild flailing. Milo and Zack high-pawed each other, while Dakota laughed his tail off. 

Once Cavendish stopped thrashing, she let go and slid to the ground. He whipped around to glare at Melissa, his tail lashing in fury. Melissa just gave him the sweetest smile she could muster. 

“Care to explain?” Cavendish growled. 

“Dakota was teaching us how to pounce and hunt,” Milo explained. “It’s a lot of fun!” 

Cavendish stalked over to Dakota, their faces so close their noses were almost touching. “I thought you were teaching them from a survival standpoint.” 

Dakota shrugged. “I am. Doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun while getting the basics down.” 

“This isn’t supposed to be fun!” Cavendish hissed. “This is a very grave matter!” 

Dakota heaved a sigh. “Sure. Much as I’d love debating our conflicting worldviews, I’m starving and I’m gonna go eat. Then we’ll take the scenic route to town.” 

“Don’t dismiss me like that!” Cavendish yowled after him, only to be ignored. Dakota picked a fish out of the pile he brought back and settled down to eat. Muttering angrily under his breath, Cavendish kicked one of the remaining fish. “Here. Eat.” 

“Melissa and I ate already,” Milo said. “Dakota let us share the first one he caught.” 

“Is it good?” Zack asked.

Milo nodded. “Tastes amazing!” 

He took a hesitant bite, chewing slowly. Then he spat it out, wiping the taste from his tongue with his paw. “Are you alright?” Melissa asked. She knew it tasted nothing like the cream they were used to, but it wasn’t that bad. She’d gladly take the salty taste over starving.

“Fish taste even worse than they look!” Zack gagged. 

Cavendish looked up from his own meal. “You haven’t eaten anything since last night. You need the energy.” 

Zack turned away from the fish instead. “I’m not hungry.” 

“If you don’t have the energy to keep up with the rest of us, don’t blame me,” Cavendish snapped. 

There was a storm brewing. Melissa could feel it. 

Zack’s eyes widened in shock, his ears flattening. “Fine! I get it! You’re just gonna leave me behind too!” he yelled, stomping over to the roots of a large tree. He laid down, sulking. 

Milo’s eyes flitted nervously between them. “Um, I’m just gonna be over there with Zack,” he mewed. 

Figuring Milo could calm him down, Melissa decided to stay with Cavendish. Besides, Milo was much better with the mushy stuff than she was. 

“Whoa, I heard a lot of noise,” Dakota approached, ignoring the furious look Cavendish sent his way. “What happened?” 

“Zack didn’t like the fish and Cavendish yelled at him,” Melissa said. 

“I didn’t yell,” Cavendish muttered. 

“I would’ve caught him a mouse,” Dakota said calmly. “Really, everything is just drama with you upper crust types.” 

Melissa tuned out their argument, watching Milo and Zack talk it out instead. A bush rustled behind them, drawing her attention. Suddenly, a pair of long, furry arms shot out from the undergrowth and snatched them up. 

Melissa screamed, drawing Cavendish and Dakota’s attention. A monkey burst out, dashing across the field and going over the bridge. Milo and Zack flailed in its grip, but couldn’t get away. 

Dakota shook his head. “Geez, primates just love catnapping, don’t they?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I borrowed some Lion King dialogue in this chapter. Thought it would be cute.
> 
> Zack really does not like fish. 
> 
> Cavendish, I love you, but you’re an idiot. And mean. 
> 
> Yeah, monkeys are making a return. I kind of wanted the characters in place of Napoleon and Lafayette to have a more active role in the plot.


	6. Monkey Business

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story ain’t dead! Really apologize about the wait on this chapter. I got back into writing for Doofenshmirtz again and well, there are infinite ways to torture the guy that I totally don’t enjoy exploring.

Zack tried to twist and squirm his way out of the monkey’s grip, but it was no good. Biting wasn’t doing him any favors either, since the fur was far too thick for his small fangs to penetrate. Next to him, Milo was far more content, but just as confused as he was. 

“Excuse me, where are you taking us?” Milo asked the monkey. 

“To the tribe leader!” the monkey exclaimed. “He’s going to love my offering!” 

Zack glanced behind them, but he couldn’t tell if Cavendish, Dakota, and Melissa were in pursuit. His stomach growled, a painful reminder that he refused the fish. He wouldn’t be able to make the journey home if he kept refusing food like that. 

No wonder Cavendish suggested they leave him behind. Just like his previous owner. 

The monkey veered off the path, heading straight for a wooded area that surrounded a large country home. Ripe fruit and some kind of strange green nut lined the trees around them. Zack’s mouth watered at the sight of a bright red bird hopping along the ground. It pulled a worm out of its hole and flew onto a forked branch to gobble up its prize. 

“Hey, Almond!” the monkey called to a muscular primate. He glared back, and Zack averted his gaze to avoid trouble. “Lookin’ sharp, Pecan!” 

Every monkey they passed either ignored or hissed at them. That didn’t bode well for their presentation to the tribe leader, whoever he was. 

Milo frowned. “They’re being kinda rude. And speaking of rude, I’m really sorry that we didn’t ask for your name.” 

“Oh, I’m Pistachio! And yeah, sorry about them. These guys tend to chase off any human who enters their territory. Don’t trust them at all. We were all rescued from these mean people with white pelts. They jabbed us with thorns and wouldn’t let us play together. We were all crammed into this weird hard mesh,” Pistachio explained. 

“That sounds awful! But it doesn’t explain why they’re so mean to you,” Milo replied. 

“It’s complicated,” Pistachio shrugged. “They know Orton likes me best. Believe it or not, I do have a few compadres here. Just gotta make a brief stop to pick ‘em up before we go to the tribe leader.” 

Zack looked at him in surprise. “You know Orton? One of our humans is crazy over him!” 

Pistachio smirked. “Who doesn’t know the name of Orton? He’s the greatest tribe leader ever!” 

Milo’s eyes widened in admiration. “Whoa, that’s amazing! I wanna meet him!” 

“You will in a little bit. Wait here,” Pistachio winked. He scrambled up a thick vine that led to the canopy of a large tree. Zack backed underneath a bush when he heard loud shrieks erupt from the top. 

Three black-furred monkeys hopped down to the forest floor, yawning widely and blinking the sleep out of their eyes. “I wanna sleep,” one of them complained. Zack’s ears flattened at the sight of the sharp, white fangs.

Pistachio rolled his eyes, dragging Zack out of the bush with his tail. Milo brushed against Zack’s side, purring to comfort him. “Kits, these are the Nut siblings. Poor things, their mother was so afraid of humans she wouldn’t come out of her tree! Wouldn’t give her poor triplets a lick of freedom. So naturally, I took them all on as apprentices. Give ‘em a taste of the world beyond this orchard.” 

“What about your mom?” Milo asked, fearlessly padding up the largest of the Nut siblings. Zack considered biting his tail to keep him away so they didn’t get killed. “Wouldn’t she be worried about you guys?” 

“Pfft, nah. Nowadays, Ma is so wrapped up in worry that she doesn’t notice where we are,” he waved a hand dismissively. “So, I’m Pine. These are my annoying sisters.” 

“It’s Hazel, not ‘annoying sister’,” the other sibling retorted with a glare leveled at her brother. She gestured to the smallest monkey. “And this is Coco. She doesn’t talk, by the way.”

Coco walked in circles around Milo and Zack, sizing them up carefully. Then she reached towards Milo, and poked at something in his fur. Zack unsheathed his claws, afraid that she would hurt Milo. She backed up, sticking her fingers in her mouth. 

“Guess you had a bug on you,” Hazel said. “Coco’s the best flea detector we have. Sometimes she roots through fur without asking though. Still working on that.” 

“It’s okay!” Milo exclaimed. “I was wondering why my back felt itchy. It kinda felt like one of Cavendish’s baths, but without getting wet.” 

“He’s our guardian,” Zack explained as they headed out of the forest. “He worries a lot. And can be kinda mean....” 

_“If you don’t have the energy to keep up with the rest of us, don’t blame me.”_

Cavendish would cast him aside. Like Elliot had done recently. And his previous owner before them. 

“Sounds awful. You’re always welcome to join us,” Pistachio shrugged. “If you wanna. Your choice.” 

“That’s not true!” Milo protested. “He’s also got a funny mustache! And he taught me piano! And he warmed me up from a snowstorm!” 

Pine picked Milo up, placing him on his back. “This trip’ll be faster if we just carry them,” he said. Zack clung to Hazel’s fur with his claws, relieved that he didn’t have to walk the rest of the way. He needed to eat soon. It was getting hard to focus on anything else. “I’ll give this Cavwhatever the benefit of the doubt.” 

“So where are your parents?” Hazel asked. 

Milo shrugged. “Cavendish is out here looking for us.” 

“Dunno,” Zack mumbled. “Still at that old shack, I guess.” 

He gritted his teeth, trying not to feel the stab of guilt that came up whenever he thought of his parents. His human had probably been expecting him to die in an alley somewhere, not be swept inside a mansion and showered in attention and cream. Was it bad that he hadn’t given much thought to his parents in the past few weeks? 

That all he had to worry about was potentially angering Elliot, and Melissa sneaking up on him when he tried to practice singing. And his parents were trapped, catching whatever came their way and ducking under the bed whenever their human had that nasty smell on him again. 

He was so lost in thought that he hadn’t noticed they were already at the front door of the country house. While it wasn’t as luxurious as the mansion, the house was definitely taken care of. “Now remember. I led the raid on that human with the bike thingy last night so it’s only natural I get the ripest banana,” Pistachio said before he knocked on the door. 

“He always gets the ripest pick....” Hazel muttered. 

“Please, no reporters,” a tall man said wearily once he opened the door. “I told you already, Ingrid Landon and I have zero interest in each other. Can’t a man get a break every once in a while?” 

“Assume position before our tribe leader!” Pistachio barked. 

Milo and Zack were suddenly dropped in front of Orton, the monkeys bowing low to the ground with their long tails sticking up. 

“O great tribe leader Orton, we humbly offer these kittens in exchange for delicious bananas!” Pistachio declared. 

“This is what you kidnapped us for? Bananas?” Zack asked in exasperation. 

Orton’s mood did a complete 180 once he noticed them. “Kittens! How adorable!” he laughed, holding his hand out for them to sniff. Milo skipped straight to the petting, but Zack knew better. New house, new person, so he had to be on guard in case he and Milo needed a quick escape. “Pistachio, old boy, you’ve outdone yourself! Why don’t all of you come in and have something to eat?” 

“Haha! He called you old!” Pine snickered. 

Pistachio glared at him. “I don’t have gray on my muzzle yet. I can still snap your arm.” 

“Well, here you are! Fresh out of the market too!” Orton tossed a large bag of bananas at Pistachio, and the four descended on the food. 

“Hazel, don’t give me the green ones!” 

“I don’t want that! It’s got a spot!” 

“Ahem, what did I say about getting the ripest ones?” 

Milo and Zack watched the spectacle unfold. Okay, it wasn’t so bad. Zack snickered when Coco dumped a banana peel on Hazel’s head. It was kind of entertaining. 

“Now, I believe I’ve got some leftovers from the last bunch Pistachio brought in. And the milkman was quite generous this morning,” Orton said, rooting through the cabinets in search of something. 

Milo and Zack waited patiently while Orton poured them a bowl full of rich, creamy milk, and they licked it up while they waited for solid food. Finally, a few slices of meat was set out, and they greedily tore into it. 

The meat was juicy and slightly pink, and left a salty tang on his tongue when he swallowed. His tiny claws could rip it apart without much issue. 

“Hungry little guys, aren’t you?” Orton cooed. “I’ll be back, I’d better go check up on Pistachio and his little gang before they tear my living room apart.” 

Zack licked the meat off his whiskers, then tore into a juicy morsel. It would’ve tasted so much better if Cavendish, Dakota, and Melissa were with them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Orton just really, really likes monkeys. 
> 
> Poor Zack. Getting kidnapped three times kinda messes with ya. 
> 
> Zack finally gets to eat something! 
> 
> Sara would be worshiping Orton on her knees next to Pistachio and the others if she could.


	7. A Certain Kind of Purrplexing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t have a set order for whose POV the chapters go to. Just whoever suits it best.

Cavendish regretted being so harsh. He could’ve praised Zack more often, but it was always easier to point out the flaws in his vocal exercises. He could’ve shown Zack how to wash behind his ears so he could do it properly rather than reminding him every time he was due for a bath. 

His nerves were completely frayed, and certain cats were definitely trying to snap the delicate threads that kept him from full-blown panicking. 

“Melissa, don’t wander off. Stay where I can see you,” Cavendish said as Melissa followed the winding roots of a large sycamore. 

She rolled her eyes. “How are you gonna look for them if you’re watching me?” 

“Don’t sass me, young lady,” Cavendish snapped. 

“Fine,” Melissa muttered. “I didn’t tell Zack we were leaving him behind though.” 

Cavendish’s fur bristled, and he glared at her. “I said no such thing! If you want to help, then you should listen to me! And Dakota too, but clear it with me first. Understand?” 

Before Melissa could retort, Dakota bounded out of the bushes, panting heavily. “Hey, so I heard some of the monkeys talkin’. Apparently two kittens were being carried through the woods by some kinda nutjob.” He paused to catch his breath, his eyes flicking between Cavendish and Melissa. “Did I miss something here?” 

Cavendish sighed. “Quite a lot. I can’t look for Zack because a certain she-cat will wander off the moment my back is turned.” 

“I’m trying to help, but he won’t let me!” Melissa scowled. 

For good reason, Cavendish thought. He wouldn’t know what to do if Melissa was caught and eaten by a predator or some other territorial creature. There were an infinite amount of horrible fates that a young kitten could fall victim to. He knew she’d survived on the streets for a while before the Murphys took her in, but he hadn’t been responsible for her then. 

Sometimes he wished he had been though. 

“Okay, okay. Listen, how about a compromise?” Dakota suggested. 

“I’m the master of this house,” Cavendish huffed. “I don’t make compromises.” 

Dakota shrugged. “Well, we aren’t in a house. Besides, I hear the humans have this whole system called...uh, demolition. No, that’s not right. Demography? Nah. Demo...demoness. Eh, something that started with demo anyway. I don’t really think it works since they don’t listen to cats. But basically it means you have to allow Melissa a say, Cavendish.” 

“Great!” Melissa smirked. “I want to help look for Milo and Zack, and the coziest spot by the fireplace, cause the queen naturally should get the warmest spot in the mansion.”

“I’m not agreeing to the latter term,” Cavendish scowled. He learned quickly that once he gave Melissa an inch, she would take the entire continent. Besides, that cozy spot was his alone. Melissa opened her mouth, but Cavendish quickly cut her off. “And I’m not negotiating either.” 

“I think you’re kinda missing the point,” Dakota said. “Besides, three pairs of eyes are better than two.” 

Cavendish scowled at him, belatedly realizing that Dakota had completely stalled them from their task. “Fine. Melissa can look too. I’m only agreeing because we’re wasting time. You said something about the monkeys earlier, so logically we should ask them.” 

“Yes! Thanks for the save, Dakota!” Melissa exclaimed. 

Dakota purred. “No prob. How ‘bout you hop on my back? Better vantage point, you know?” 

Melissa eagerly hopped onto his fluffy back (When did he ever use words like fluffy to describe someone?), her back paws clinging around his neck while her front paws rested on his head. “Don’t worry, I’m a good rider. We did this all the time with Diogee.” 

“I can tell, kit. You’re a natural,” Dakota grinned. 

Melissa puffed out with pride at the praise. Cavendish tried to scent the air, but it was awfully hard to concentrate when his mind was on Dakota being excellent with the kittens. Or how allowing Melissa to ride on his back under the guise of letting her have a good perch to look for Milo and Zack also satisfied his concern over Melissa potentially wandering off. 

Okay, and maybe there was the slightly embarrassing preference for thick, fluffy pelts. It was practical for warmth, he reasoned. And if it was practical, he shouldn’t feel embarrassed for it. 

Focusing was certainly harder now that Dakota had somehow wormed his way into his mind. 

“Yeah, you might wanna let me do the talking,” Dakota suggested. “These monkeys are kind of distrustful of outsiders. Humans did something funny to their brains, I think.” 

Cavendish nodded, his fur prickling at the odd sensation of being watched by some unseen entity. 

“Hey, guys. So I overheard you mentioning seeing a monkey carrying two kittens earlier. Mind pointing us in the right direction? We’ll be out of your fur then,” Dakota called out to nobody in particular. “And don’t mind these guys. They’re with me.”

For a moment, there was no response. Then a shuffling noise came from the treetops around them, and several monkeys came down from the higher branches into view. Though they were still a considerable distance away, Cavendish could still see the distrustful glare in their eyes. One of them bared his teeth. 

“Intruders,” he spat. 

“Yo,” Dakota waved his tail in greeting. Cavendish thought he was being too casual for a life or death situation. “Which way to the kittens?” 

“Kittens?” a monkey with a crooked tail barked harshly. “Ha! You’ll be lucky to find a hair of those furballs once the monster in that stone building’s done with ‘em!” 

Melissa rolled her eyes. “Please. Milo is invincible.” 

No, Milo wasn’t invincible. It only seemed that way because of his uncanny ability to break heavy objects and come out with only a few scratches. 

“HE STOLE MY BABIES! THEY’LL BE EATEN BY HUMANS!” a loud screech sounded from a hollow. 

“You’re lucky Praline is in one of her fits again,” the largest of the group said as they turned to leave. “Her kids must’ve run off with Pistachio. And if we find you on our territory when we get back, we’ll tear you apart.” 

Then they vanished. 

“Friendly bunch, aren’t they?” Cavendish muttered. “We’d best move on before they calm that Praline monkey down.” 

Dakota nodded. “These guys tend to exaggerate. Really, they’ll be fine with Pistachio. He’s a great guy.” 

“They named themselves after nuts?” Cavendish asked, wondering what possessed these monkeys to use food as their name. “And how do you know this Pistachio?” 

They reached the end of the orchard before Dakota responded. Ahead of them, a large path led to the main road while a smaller one stretched to a rather quaint country home. “He usually sends alley cats our way. We got a network in the city. You know, best places for prey, news on human activity, what paths to avoid. That sorta thing. The other monkeys don’t like him. Something about being a bad influence on their youth. Dunno, don’t pay attention to monkey business. Get it? Monkey business? Cause-” 

“Yes, yes, I get it,” Cavendish rolled his eyes, then frowned. “What exactly do you mean by bad influence?” 

Dakota grinned, which Cavendish was becoming somewhat accustomed to even though it irritated him all the same. “Bad manners while eating. Or worse, eating out of the silver bowl first rather than the gold one.” 

Cavendish scoffed. “I don’t care what the color is as long as it’s clean.” 

“You spent an entire afternoon teaching us the proper order of eating when there’s multiple bowls,” Melissa pointed out. 

“Wait, that’s true?” Dakota chuckled. “I thought that was only a rumor.”

“Nah, pretty sure it’s just Cavendish,” Melissa supplied. “Then I got in trouble for making a milk mustache and imitating him when he wasn’t looking.” 

Dakota snickered. “You gotta show me that sometime.” 

Cavendish glared at them both. “I assure you that whatever influence Pistachio has on Milo and Zack, he cannot possibly compare to yours on Melissa.” 

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Dakota said, his chest puffing out. “Anyway, I have a hunch they’re in the house. The human who lives there isn’t half bad. He puts out food every now and then. I think he’s one of those nature-loving types.” 

They passed by a cluster of stone birdbaths and cheap bowls filled with assorted grains and nuts. Squirrels and birds darted around collecting food, squabbling over the largest pieces and best spots. Apparently the abundance of food had dulled their survival instincts since they weren’t reacting to the cats. 

Just as Cavendish was starting to formulate a plan to get inside, a series of crashes startled him, followed by several excited hoots. “No, we mustn’t climb onto antique shelves. Come down from there-AGH! It seems that you’re a black cat in disguise, you little rascal.” 

Dakota pushed against the door, and it swung open with a small creak. “Guess it wasn’t shut all the way.” 

“Milo! Zack! We’re here!” Melissa exclaimed, rushing inside. 

Cavendish followed her, taking care to avoid the strewn banana peels and shredded fluff from the overturned couch. Several monkeys were cheering on Zack, who was perched on an end table and looking hesitant about jumping to the dresser. 

“Zack!” Cavendish called, rushing over and pulling him off the table. “Don’t you dare make that leap! As for the rest of you-” he gave the monkeys a stern look. “-don’t encourage this sort of behavior.” 

The monkeys balked at being scolded. “Hey, the kit’s enjoying himself,” one of the females scoffed. 

“Cavendish, it’s fine,” Zack protested. “And you didn’t have to grab me like that.” 

He sighed, relieved that the monkeys in the forest were wrong about the state of the kittens. “Listen, if I said anything about leaving you behind, or implied it somehow...ah, I wasn’t thinking clearly due to the unusual circumstances, and lost my temper, um....” Cavendish trailed off, unsure of what to say in this situation. It was far easier to ramble than say the two words. 

Zack offered a shy smile, wrapping his paws around Cavendish’s front legs. “It’s fine. I’ve cooled off now. I know you didn’t mean it.” 

Cavendish was secretly glad that Zack didn’t hold it against him. 

“Whoo! You guys made up!” Milo cheered from a shelf that was higher than Cavendish would’ve liked. Melissa had joined him at some point too, no doubt to claim every possession that rested on the wooden surface as property of the Alley Cat Queen. The human was standing on a small stool, trying unsuccessfully to coax them down. 

These kittens were going to be the death of him. 

“Milo! Melissa!” Cavendish yelled up at them. “Come down at once! I swear, it’s like raising a bunch of monkeys.” 

“Tell me about it,” a monkey snorted. “Name’s Pistachio by the way. You weren’t kidding, Zack. He does have a funny mustache.” 

“Pistachio!” Dakota called, a suspicious bit of meat still hanging off a whisker. Cavendish hadn’t even noticed that he’d snuck around the house for food. “Good to see ya!” 

Pistachio grinned. “Hey, Dakota. Have you met these three yet? This is Pine, Hazel, and Coco.” He indicated each monkey in turn. “Siblings I’ve decided to pass down my valuable skills to.” 

“Oh, so they’re learning the valuable art of catnapping then?” Dakota remarked. 

“They were offerings to Orton as payment for food,” Pistachio corrected, pointing to the human. “They’re in luck. He’s got a gig tonight in the city. Something about a photoshoot. They’ll be able to meet up with the other alley cats, who can take over from there.” 

“Alley cats?” Melissa exclaimed, looking way too excited about the prospect of meeting more alley cats. “Can we meet them?” 

Dakota grinned. “Sure can! And have a little fun while you’re at it too. There’s one cat who’s quite the feline fatale. I hear she fearlessly ventures into the deepest alleys and beats up any vicious dogs that are unfortunate enough to come her way.” 

Cavendish wasn’t sure what to make of that. Those feats certainly sounded impressive, but he and the kittens managed to survive for this long. Surely that had to count for something!

Which didn’t sound nearly as grand now that he gave it more thought. 

This entire mess was making him irrational. 

Finally, Orton succeeded in getting Milo and Melissa down from the shelf. “Alright, safe and sound now. I don’t think my house can take much more of this,” he said, surveying the mess. “Oh well. You guys are too adorable for me to be mad.”

Milo nuzzled Cavendish’s side, purring happily. Cavendish let out of a purr of his own, a mixture of happiness and relief. 

Orton glanced at his pocketwatch, his eyes widening. “They’re going to get on my case about being late, aren’t they?” he yelped, grabbing a briefcase and tie. “I need to get the horses hitched! Feel free to make yourselves at home, but please try to leave it standing!” He rushed out the door, fumbling with his tie the entire way. 

“We’ll stall the horses for a little bit,” Pistachio said. “You guys go hide yourselves in his carriage. It’s just around the side. Can’t miss it. And good luck!” 

Milo and Zack took a moment to say their goodbyes to the younger monkeys before they followed their leader. 

“I’ll race you to the carriage!” Melissa challenged, wiggling her tail before taking off. 

“Hey, no fair! You didn’t say ready, set, go first!” Zack protested. 

“She’s not winning this time! C’mon, Zack!” Milo laughed. 

Cavendish couldn’t help but smile. At least things had mostly returned to normal for the kittens. 

“So, things worked out?” Dakota asked. “Never been inside a carriage before. Usually cats tend to be under them.” His ears flicked, the only visible sign that he was rather apprehensive about going into a vehicle. 

Cavendish quickly nodded, omitting that he hadn’t quite worked everything out yet. Mostly because he wasn’t sure what exactly he needed to work out. “Yes! Zack didn’t hold a grudge at least. And I might be willing to loan you the kittens for the duration of the ride. They’re adept at calming the nerves in addition to stimulating them.” 

“Nice,” Dakota mumbled, then his usual smile returned. 

And for once, it wasn’t irritatingly suave. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somebody’s got feelings! Somebody’s got feelings!
> 
> Orton is just crazy for animals. He’d probably love a job at OWCA if he weren’t already an actor.


	8. Dogs are a Girl’s Best Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let’s see how things are on the other side, shall we?

The mansion wasn’t the same without the cats. Diogee even found himself missing Cavendish, who had always disdainfully watched him from a cushion on the large windowsill. It was strange to be allowed in the mansion for extended periods of time. 

Diogee had never minded the living arrangements before, since he’d always loved the outside. There was more to do, with howling at the butcher’s for a few bones, digging holes and covering them up before he could get caught, and playing with the kittens. 

Besides, he didn’t have to watch his step outdoors. Even if there was glass shattered from a bottle thanks to a careless human, it was fairly easy to avoid. And if he didn’t get something embedded in his paw, there was Elliot to contend with. 

But he couldn’t worry about the idiot butler who antagonized the kittens for no good reason at the moment. Checking on Martin, Brigitte, and Sara was far more important.

Before he could check on the Murphys, a jaunty whistle came from the foyer. Curious, Diogee turned to see Elliot hanging his coat on the rack. For someone who lived in a household where valued members of the family had gone missing, he seemed awfully chipper. Diogee bit back a growl. He didn’t like this at all. 

“Oh, it’s you,” Elliot sniffed. “Well, you’re just a dog so I guess there’s no harm in letting you bear witness to the first step of making the Murphy household a safe place to live.” 

Before Diogee could take offense at the ‘just a dog’ comment, Elliot unfolded the evening newspaper to the front page, which featured a large black and white splash of Orton Mahlson. 

“Oh, yeah. Think he’s in town right now,” Elliot remarked, frowning. “And I’m talking to a dog as if he can read. Wonderful. But I’m digressing. My point is, I made headlines! I know it says ‘Mysterious Catnapper Abducts Family of Cats’, which makes it sound kind of bad, but I guess you can’t win ‘em all. Anyway, tomorrow begins my first day of making the mansion a safe place to live! Starting with that chipped tile in the kitchen. Big tripping hazard.” 

He sauntered off to the kitchen, taking the newspaper with him. 

Diogee whined softly to himself. Alerting Martin of Elliot’s actions simply wouldn’t work. Brigitte and Sara would just call him adorable and not pay attention to the message he needed to convey. He huffed. As much as he loved his family, they suffered from an inability to comprehend a different species’ language like every other human on this planet. 

His only option was to find Cavendish and the kittens, bring them home, and drive Elliot out for good. But he could hardly leave now. Not when everyone was so emotionally vulnerable. 

He’d have to try going out when everyone was asleep, but even that was harder when Sara needed a companion at night. 

Frustrated at that selfish, incompetent butler for putting everyone into this mess, Diogee lifted his leg and relieved himself on Elliot’s shoes. Even he had to indulge in being a bad dog every once in a while. 

 

* * *

 

 

Upstairs, the master bedroom was eerily silent. Brigitte sat at her desk, a blueprint opened in front of her. She stared at the wall, a pencil hanging loosely from her hand. Martin rubbed circles into her back as he murmured soothing words to calm her. 

“They’re part of the family. How could they just suddenly be gone?” Brigitte asked. 

Martin shook his head gently. “Not gone. Sounds...permanent. You know how we went to that Beethoven concerto when Sara was six and we lost her while heading out? Then the conductor found her in the orchestra pit and helped her find us? It’s something like that. We’re here, the cats decided to check out the orchestra pit, and the conductor will bring them home.” 

Brigitte smiled. “Have I ever mentioned how much I love you and your analogies that make sense to no one but us?” 

“Maybe once or twice,” Martin chuckled, peppering her cheek with several kisses. 

Diogee nosed the door open enough for him to slip through, padding up to Martin and nudging his hand. He was rewarded with several absentminded pats to the head. 

“I know you miss them too, Diogee,” Brigitte said. “You were always so good with the kittens.” 

Diogee’s tail wagged at the praise, though it didn’t do much to alleviate the melancholy atmosphere. 

“Mom?” Sara called from the hallway. 

Brigitte stood up from her chair. “Yes, Sara?” she asked. Diogee followed her out of the bedroom. Sara stood at the top of the stairs with his leash in hand, fidgeting with the loop anxiously. 

“I can’t sleep, Mom,” Sara confessed. “Do you think I could just take Diogee out for an evening walk? He’s kinda been cooped up for a while. And I think I just need to tire myself out.” 

“Well, if Diogee wants to, then I have no problem with it,” Brigitte assured her. “But be sure to stay on the grounds.” 

Diogee offered no resistance when Sara hooked the leash to his collar. Then he led her down the stairs as Brigitte called out a few reminders. Sara frowned as she unlocked the door, glancing at the soaked brown shoes that were suspiciously laying far away from the rest of the family’s footwear. 

“So did Elliot’s idea of safetyproof include switching your favorite bowl with a boring plastic, white one?” Sara asked. 

Diogee snorted. He’d better not try it. 

As they passed by the stables, a sudden idea struck Diogee. He strained at his leash, barking up a frenzy as he rushed towards the area where Elliot kept his motorbike. 

It had always been in poor condition, but he definitely recalled seeing Elliot come back the other night with his clothes scuffed and the sidecar missing completely. And if he could just show Sara.... 

“Diogee! I wanted to go by the koi pond!” Sara scolded breathlessly. “You know, I’m supposed to be the one walking you!” Despite her protests, she didn’t seem to particularly care about where they headed. He took it as a good sign. 

Pawing at Elliot’s motorbike, he led Sara around so she could see the latch that used to contain the sidecar. She ran her hand over the latch, her eyebrows furrowed in thought. “That’s odd,” she said. “Where’s the sidecar? And what’s with all these weird scratches?” She peered curiously at a tiny dent. 

Good. She was getting suspicious. 

Then a shriek came from outside. “That’s it!” a frantic voice muttered. “That’s the last time people leave bales of hay within five feet of the entrance!” 

Diogee and Sara wrinkled their noses at the smell emanating from Elliot’s shoes, which he strangely never noticed. 

“Hi, Elliot. You haven’t noticed anything...strange. Right?” Sara gagged. 

Elliot raised an eyebrow. “Well, my socks feel soaked, so I should probably run back and change them before I get a fungal infection. But other than that, I haven’t seen anything strange. Why would you think anything’s strange? Cause your parents haven’t seemed to notice anything either so-” he chuckled nervously, his fingers twiddling together. 

Honestly, he’d seen better subtlety from the most inexperienced of shoplifters. 

“Oh. Well, I was just wondering what happened to your motorbike. It looks likes it’s seen better days. And by better days, I mean it was banged up but not as badly a week ago,” Sara said, folding her arms. She and Diogee glanced at each other as Elliot tugged the collar of his shirt, a bead of sweat trickling down his neck.

“I-uh, well you see, I was out doing a routine inspection of the city!” Elliot exclaimed. “Just because I wasn’t this town’s traffic cop anymore didn’t mean people could go breaking safety laws whenever they felt like it!”

Sara raised her eyebrow. “Any violations?”

“Three instances of improper horse to cart attachments, seven gentlemen dictating letters while driving, and there was one lady with a very long mink scarf. That thing was a choking hazard, lemme tell you,” Elliot replied.

“So if that’s all normal, then why’s your sidecar missing?” Sara asked.

“I was robbed!” Elliot cried. “They jumped me when I was off-guard, those scoundrels! They made off with my sidecar, and I’m glad that’s the only thing they-“ he broke off, a look of dawning realization crossing his face. “The sidecar…if they discover it….” he muttered frantically. “Um, I have places to be tonight. Safety czar stuff, 24/7 job. You know how it is.”

With that, he shoved Sara and Diogee out of the stables, slamming the door behind them.

Diogee pawed Sara’s leg, and she knelt down to stoke his back. “Thanks, boy. You were telling me something all along, weren’t you?” she asked. Diogee barked in affirmation. She smiled. “Thought so. Elliot’s definitely acting strange. And he’s obviously not good at lying.”

They sat in silence while Sara mulled over the recent events. “Diogee, I want you to be my co-investigator. We’ll keep a close eye on Elliot, but we won’t tell Mom and Dad yet. Not until we know for certain. Call it a hunch, but I think he knows something about the cats.”

Sara trusted him to help her solve the mystery. She was a lot more than the airheaded Orton fangirl most people seemed to regard her as. She loved Cavendish and the kittens too. He could tell there was nothing else she wanted except to see them safe and sound.

Diogee missed them so much. And even if he and Cavendish never saw eye to eye on most things, he trusted that he would protect them to the best of his ability. Cavendish had a duty to protect the kittens and bring them home safely.

Just as he had a duty to comfort the humans that the cats would come home.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elliot is really, really bad at villaining. 
> 
> This movie is like the epitome of the butler did it.


End file.
